The aim now is to recommence work on this blog at some point in 2008 and maintain a regular upload each week - irrespective of how small that upload might be. Grandiose expectations of editing and uploading 4 poems a week have fallen by the wayside and just uploading a single piece might prove more realistic. My appologies to people who have been visiting here since the 11th of January. My condition is such that I don’t have much control over its state, and have to work its management into my daily routine. This often means it takes precidence over everything else - especially when it gets acute.

I’ve finally added some wiki links to two other authors I greatly admire - Robert Louis Stevenson and Nikos Kazantzakis. Both these writers were brilliant social commentators in their time, challenging issues of inequity every step of the way. In spite of no longer being a practicing social worker myself, social justice is never too far from my mind, no matter what type of work I’m carrying out. Thus, my ongoing interest in the writings of such people like Stevenson and Kazantzakis.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - October 2008

Before I do however, I’d like to thank the site’s many readers for their feedback and support from (across the globe). Its been very rewarding to discover that material which was stored away in archive boxes (and forgotten) for so many years is of some use and enjoyment to people out there on the Net.

This last set of poems, rounds up the year’s uploads to 52 - a good start I think, but there’s a lot more material to get through in the next few years.

The poems for this week include:
- Learning
- Human Within Humanity
- Once Upon A…
From the “Growing Up” anthology

And:
- Curvature
From a series of ungrouped poems written in 2001.

All things going well, I look forward to resuming my verse uploads in January 2008. Until then, keep safe and have a wonderful holiday/religious period.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - December 2007

And:
- Cleared City Land
From a series of ungrouped poems written in 1998.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - November 2007

And:
- Beginnings
From a series of ungrouped poems written in 1997.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - November 2007

The poems for this week take the total number to 40. Editing and uploading has occurred for 13 consecutive weeks.

The titles include:
- Love
- Parting With An Incapacitated Friend
- Completeness
From the “Growing Up” anthology

And:
- Monkeyed
From a series of ungrouped poems written in 2006.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - November 2007

Lets review what has worked so far and what hasn’t…

What Has Worked:
- three poems a week.
- poems in the order in which they were written.

What Has Not Worked:
- not uploading any recent poems.
- audio recordings which are taking far too long to generate.
- discovering mistakes in poems that have already had their audio and text uploaded to the site.

Because of the above issues, my weekly upload will now be based on the following:
- editing and uploading the next three poems in the order in which they were written.
- uploading a more recent poem each week.
- not carrying out any audio recordings until I’m certain a poem has reached a static (and correct) form.
- adding an audio version (MP3) and a printable version (PDF) to a poem’s posting once I know a poem is stable.

What does this mean for visitors? Audio recordings will be added independent of text uploads (and only when I’m certain that I haven’t missed any editorial corrections). The number of poem uploads will increase to four per week i.e. three older poems and one recent poem.

This week will be the last of the three poem per week format. I’d like to thank the site’s many visitors for their patience while I continue to iron out “how to proceed” in populating the site with its content. :)

The poems for this week include:
- Poverty
- Friend
- Budgerigar

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - November 2007

Though this early writing is a genuine reflection of where I was at during the 1980’s, its not much of a reflection of what I write today. As a result, I ask that readers grimace and ‘bare with me’ as I get this early material online. I hope that the anthologies which follow “Growing Up” are more to people’s liking.

I’ve also realised that some pieces are primarily thoughts - diary entries on scraps of paper which don’t have any poetic form at all. I’ve decided that instead of trying to incorporate these pieces as poetry, I’ll upload the material to the prose section instead i.e. ensuring that the work is still documented and available, but not being passed off as poetry.

All pieces from this week’s selection are still part of the “Growing Up” anthology - the splice of “Growing Up” and more recent work will begin in a few weeks time week.

The interesting thing about this week’s work is that it includes poems with various forms of rhyme. Rhyme was a technique that I dabbled in before developing my own style. Rhyming schemes haven’t been used in the bulk of my writing, as I felt they set up to many restraints for what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it.

Again I’ve run out of time in regards to the audio versions - I will endeavor to get back to making recordings as soon as possible.

The poems for this week include:
- A Thought Of Peace.
- A Father’s Stand…
- The Loss Of Love?

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - October 2007

It includes:
- The Universe - Force
- Nationality
- Time

My voice is almost back to normal, so I should be able to add audio versions for all subsequent postings. I’ll also endeavour to add an audio component to the last three week’s worth of material. This may take about a month to complete.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - October 2007

Ironically, many of the hopes this adolescent wrote about - like not wanting to be a wage slave, did become my reality. (Not through choice mind you, but through circumstance - as a result, I have this to say to any young people out there - ‘be careful what you wish for, it may just come to pass!’) Because the ‘lad’s’ writing is so distant from what I do today, I’ve tried to keep the editing of these pieces to a minimum. In many ways, these poems have a greater (personal) historical significance than any poetic value - i.e. they track/highlight how my writing style developed. This first anthology was collated from 1983 through to 1990 and titled - “Growing Up”. It contains more than 50 pieces in total.

This week’s selection comes from 1983 and includes:
- Emptiness Within
- Recovery
- The Circle

I’ve also scanned some art work from this same era. The first image is of calligraphy I had created for the folder that housed all the poems (in this anthology). The second image is of a drawing I was going to use for the cover of the anthology i.e. if it ever got published. As I don’t intend to use this image, when I finally self publish this material, I thought it might be of some interest to web readers.

Unfortunately, my voice is still not 100%, so these poems will also have to wait for their audio to be added at a later date.

Finally, please keep in mind, that it wasn’t until 1987 that I started to add exact dates to pieces. As a result, poems from 1983 to 1986 are arranged in the order in which they were written and within the year in which they were written, but the actual date that they appear on this site is only an estimate.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - October 2007

In the meantime, this week’s selection includes:
- A Neighbour Weeding
- Out Of Mind
- Cleo The Cat

In addition to this I’ve finally added the about the author page to give readers some idea of who they’re dealing with here. :)

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - October 2007

The selection includes:
- Casting Off The Handed Down Toxin.
- Chaos In Sterility - The Western World…
- The Youth Wage.

In addition to this I’ve also updated the poetry index page, so that readers can view a complete list of poems at a glance. As of this week the site holds 21 pieces of verse in text and audio formats.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - October 2007

My appologies to people who’d like more regular verse, but at this stage, I can’t get more time off work.

Regarding what’s coming up in the next few weeks - hopefully, more information on the static pages; another week’s worth of early 1990s material; one more week’s worth of recent material - and then, I go all the way back to the start and begin systematically uploading poems and anthologies in the order in which they were written i.e. from 1983 onwards. The aim is to complete the “Growing Up” anthology first - before I do anything else.

As always - any NEW poems, commentaries, etc., I write, will be uploaded as I complete my editing process.

This week’s selection includes more poems from the early 1990s.
- An Order
- Going Home, To Rest…
- The Onward Struggle - Making A Place Of Our Own

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - September 2007

The selection includes more poems from the early 1990s.
- Me? You? …Us.
- Happy Endings…
- To Quell The Racism…

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - September 2007

The selection includes some of my favorites from 1994, 1993 and 1991.
- Cotton, Steel and Plastic.
- Soul Port
- Too Fast.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - September 2007

This week’s three pieces have been uploaded simultaneously instead of appearing in a staggered manner. Normally, this ’site update’ will appear at the end of the week providing a summary of the work that has been undertaken in the last seven days.

So far I’ve been able to stick to the three poem per week (editing) quota, without too much trouble. i.e. As we’re in our third week of operation, the site has 9 poems (in text and audio formats)

In time I’ll be adding a little info about each poem, but this will be located on the index poetry page.

Now to this week’s selection - all poems come from 2001.
- A Lite Blanket, A Brick Wall…
- Soldier Blood
- W.T.C.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - September 2007

Death is just an interesting dinner table topic to many of these people - nothing more. The cult of ‘Ego’ and ‘Eternal Youth’ reigns supreme, and after that chardonnay washes down that expensive dinner, all thoughts of one’s place in the world are restored to ‘Normal’. They of course, will read this fragment of prose and think I am talking about someone else, but then again, that’s the way it should be - I expect…

Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

The format of every recording is as follows: spoken track, background track and copyright notice at the end of each recording. Each anthology of poems will have a different backing track, and ungrouped poems from the last four years, will initially be released without such a track. The backing track is associated with the anthology’s theme. Being an MP3 file, title and author information should also be viewable on people’s MP3 equipment or computers.

You can download the audio version of each poem by right clicking your mouse and selecting ’save target as…’ (Windows) or ’save link…’/'download linked file…’ (Mac) from the displayed menu. This will allow you to archive a copy to your desktop or harddrive. Once I’ve uploaded more material, I will also be adding the site’s RSS feed to podcast services like iTunes etc, which should make it easier to locate and obtain audio copies of poems.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - August 2007

Though we all do this (to some extent), all that really counts is what we “know to be true”, i.e. that which exists beyond belief and which presents itself “after the dark night of the soul” (after your Faith has been destroyed by doubt and reconstructed using material that you “know to be true”). Let me put it another way - to quote Seth in the movie “City of Angels” - ’some things are true whether you believe in them or not’. The problem is, we often ignore what we “know to be true”.

For example, you can construct as many layers as you want to hide the facts, but reality and existence are not changed by those layers. Just look at all the misery in people’s lives, even though they’ve constructed and surrounded themselves with layers we now know as lifestyles! One can choose to live such lifestyles, or one can choose not to live such lifestyles - its up to the individual - the principle behind it is still the same - free will. What doesn’t change however is that the “lifestyle” doesn’t alter a person’s underlying reality.

A friend of mine, recently raised the fact that she knows her ‘ego wants it (life) to be more sensational and more exotic’, so she’s making decisions accordingly. “The ego wants it (life) to be more sensational and more exotic…”? What path have we convinced ourselves to trundle down? Is she for example, about to make decisions that will lead her into “selfless service” or into “having an adventure and feeling good about herself”! What I don’t understand is this, if one REALLY wants to work with the needy, what’s wrong with helping the poorer Indigenous Communities in one’s own country. I can count on one hand the number of schools that teach children their Indigenous Language and English, their Culture and Mainstream Culture, etc. especially in countries like Australia. Few here, want to work with or even respect this country’s original people. No one wants to LEARN their language, and it continues to be an indictment on this nation as to how many Indigenous Australians are not treated as equals!

We should be ensuring that our decisions (regarding selfless service) are part of the solution, not part of the problem. I’m sick and tired of “community workers” going into other contexts across the globe (i.e. other countries), perpetuating the colonialist model of the 19 Century, setting themselves up as the experts and teaching the “locals” how good things can be. I’ve been through this again and again with misdirected social workers and I can’t stand the outcome - both the inflated egos and the downtrodden locals. If one wants to go down this path - no one can really stop them, but they shouldn’t expect others to support an action that patronises another group of people. This approach has already been perpetuated by far too many Westerners. If one ignores history, because they think its boring, one risks making the same mistakes again and again.

Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

The best any of us can do (as most religions tell us), is to sit still (stay put), know what we are good at and use that in service without any expectation of reward (or revelation). To think we are being rewarded (and important enough to be guided) is the complete opposite of our call to (humble) service. I can’t imagine the Theotokos was into what she could get out of the deal - who in their right mind would hand over their “will” completely - she of course could and did - it was her gift to humanity, her LEGACY to the future, her attempt at Theosis (which is yet to be matched). There was the initial confusion (of pregnancy) of course and then a lifetime of follow through based on her gifts. And yes, many (of the rest) of us lead a lifetime of confusion, before there’s a follow through based on our gifts. But at least some of us, find ourselves walking into the stable at the 11th hour! So if we’re advised by our religion to sit still - it means to sit still! One could spend the rest of one’s life galavanting around the world, but that’s just another form of running from a commitment to service!

Take responsibility for where things are at, then make the most of what you can do. Waiting for signs is more about ego and our interpretation of reality than about reality itself i.e. Intrinsic Truth is always right before our eyes, no matter which direction we turn our faces (even when we turn our faces away from God) - there are no need for signs. Life is the sign, breath is its proof - all we need to do is open our eyes…

Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

I continue to view reality through Trinitarian (Orthodox Christian) eyes, though its highly unfashionable and often gets me into trouble.

Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

Also, please keep in mind that my work will not necessarily appear at the start of the blog as each piece will be accurately date stamped e.g. 20 August 1991, in order to authentically highlight when it was written. This means that a new release will not necessarily appear as the latest posting, but will show up within the site. You’ll need to make use of the RSS feed (from the site) to know where and in which time period the new piece has appeared.

And finally, thank you to friends and family who’ve unconditionally supported and encouraged the creation of this site to promote my poetry (and other writing). A special thank you to my wife Helen, who harrassed me daily (for almost ten years) to begin releasing my work publicly. Helen - I’m sorry its taken this long, but better late than never. :)

So, I thank you all again for your patience, and hope the material you find on this website proves worthy of your belief in it, and in me.

Cheers - Vasilios Theodorakis - August 2007

To voice a goodbye
Free falls away
Favouring fate
That follows
Endings of uncrossed paths.
This thought, again replayed -
Is layed out in full,
Brushed with care,
And cradled for a time.
Turned, and again checked for its emotional ID.

Unlike fe-lines
Our kind, cannot predict
The seasons as once we did.
Nor, pre-empt such unseen loss.
Not being there could not be helped.
Cleo waited as long as she could,
Hung her thanks
Upon the decades of love, woven right around the house,
And heeded the call of her origin -
Returning home, one last time.

What she would’ve liked,
Was for all to recall
That, were it not for this family
Of open hearts
And unchecked time,
Trust would not have transformed from bud to bloom -
And 26 years
Of connected
Sighs, laughs and affection felt,
Could not have come to pass.

This Schrödinger’s cat was truly alive -
Thanks to the few who stepped up to the task,
Peered into the box,
And on tip-toes, pulled her little self into their lives.
She was that lifetime plaque
Of reciprical commitments,
Often drapped around the necks of the Decent,
And there could be no regrets
About such an arrangement,
Now could there.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

In role
Us - the Outsiders,
Witness their ‘fade away’
As another torso
Is lost to the faceless crowd
Of sensibility.
Thank goodness, these brothers and sisters
Have a place to call home - the Mall.
Without it,
I shudder at the thought of their fate.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 90sec / 707kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

Dedication (For Rachel Robinson)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007

Abandoned by light and sugared by thorns,
Youth declare meaningless wisdom
As the basis to their body’s vacant room.

And somehow, this has come to stand
For modern insight - hard driven inspiration;
Even though, none of the words
Challenge reality,
And the Oracle
Of the Room never replies
To the half hearted questions,
Posed by a whole generation
Of self strangled,
Still born adults.

Our life giving Spark,
Has media mutated
Into a naked Primate,
Dressed in plaid
And given to shouting,
The ego’s own chant - “Who do I love? Myself!”
So much for the archetypal need to look beyond -
To seek out lyrics, folklore and fairy-tales.
So much for ionic philosophy and religion -
Or the desire to produce instead of consume.

The ‘Y’s, no longer know how
To fill the Void
When the camp fires go out.
Instead, they catch themselves
Staring off into the distance,
Dreaming up nothing,
And hoping that their magical consoles
Will re-ignite tomorrow,
Allowing the world
To offer up Noise! - More blessed Noise!

Such an approach, was once an anathema -
Known to regress our species’ evolution.
But now, all manner of glitter balls take centre stage
Locking in the legacy -
Of talons for the sleek, manure for the brave!

Audio Version (To Be Added)
New Word (Monkeyed - adj. regressing the evolution of one’s own species.)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2006

This, I have witnessed.
This, do I know.
Your self averted,
A priest’s son dies,
Promises are made,
Visits considered,
But nothing occures.
Touched by your play,
A creature is hurt,
Un-gathered by arms, killed,
Not nutured to death,
But denied its extension of expression.
Consumed by your status,
A friend is felled, unwitnessed,
Subjected to blow after blow,
The silent assault
Mimics the clamour
Of a synthesized Voice.

And were I to reflect on this,
Were I to really trouble myself by what I’ve seen,
My thoughts would be forced to raise the question:
Who are these people?
People, whose behaviour has been less wholesome
Than that of my darkest enemies.

Though we began our journey together.
Though we staked out
A claim within Holy Walls.
I’ve come to accept
That we do not travel the same Road
Or follow the same Source
And this has saddened me, greatly.
One can’t help but wonder,
What will it take for ‘You’ to return
To the ‘Way’.
A death? A birth? A disability?
Or are you so charmed,
As to think, you will make it to the end of life
Without your cocoon being pierced
By an instrument of God.
I only pray, that you are spared the knowing-ness
That that instrument
Is often the scalpel, of Christ’s own hand

Dedication (For complacent Orthodox Christians)
Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2005

His silouette
Now etched in my mind,
Is seeded whole -
An archetype of peace.
And I am
Forever grateful
For his moment of grace,
Which was sprinkled
Through a window,
Upon a neighbour,
Whom
He never knew.

Dedication (For Stan Cutlack)
Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2004

Too bad the ‘cultured’
Only know you as ‘the drunk’,
And not the gentleman
That you truly are.

Dedication (For Joseph Plunkett)
Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 42sec / 331kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2003

Simple complexity
Begets
Low cost richness,
For males
Of
Any Age.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 40sec / 315kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2003

Until next time
Then,
When all variables align,
And you stretch tall,
My hidden,
And ancient Friend.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 54sec / 425kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2003

But I fear
Its more likely,
That the sandpits
Of the mind
Will burn the fury
Of their eyes,
Into their hands,
And cause them
To gouge out
The sight
Of the First.

And now,
As countless innocents
Incinerate,
Within the distinctness
Of the Mind.
Impotent leaders
Dance political jigs,
Poking out tongues
While taunting the harmful,
Who’d happily scrape
More sanctity, off the lives, of those who remain.

Dedication (In Memory Of The World Trade Center Tragedy)
Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 55sec / 433kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2001

May their place
In this DNA space,
Grow in regression.

Dedication (For My Ancestors)
Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 60sec / 472kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2001

Taken from the deepest
Blue of seas,
Souls were broken,
Fed upon soil-less food
And ground, face first into the desert of safety.
But the desert
Finally turned to muddied water.
And the muddied water
Finally distilled to sea and sediment.
And the sea and sediment
Once again allowed us
To touch the deepest blue of our past.

So across the water
Curvature is again
Eyed by Byzantine Mariners,
Whose lookout,
Is now built upon the steps
Of Wynnum Natives.

The voice
Though silenced for millennia,
Is again rising
To glorify
Far more
Than a mythological phoenix.

And this time
It will praise
His Being proper.
“So be it!”
Shout the visible and invisible worlds,
May we not rest till it is done.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2001

So long lived
Amongst the elements,
My being
Was lip serviced
By fibro,
Fronting as home.

And now? I clutch at good fortune
Wondering, what next.
Were I
To entertain confidence,
The road ahead would be paved
By dreams and grace filled places.

Hence, as lids get laden
Goodness surrounds me,
Extended by the solidarity of brick against brick.
Something, unknown to me
Since childhood,
But comforting none the less.

Dedication (For Our Home)
Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 55sec / 433kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2001

Dedication (For Helen)
Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1998

We are not what we seem.
We are the more,
The un-quashed voices
Of hearts
Pounding their way towards the beginning place,
Where honesty applauds
More loudly
Than Baroque patrons of old.

We are ourselves,
Beyond that of strangers
Whose glances are washed away
By the turning of a head.
And in part, we are the moment
Raised high
Like a banner
Announcing our stake in this - life’s lottery to be…

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1997

All I have known is cotton, steel and plastic.
Of a brother’s failure,
Of a sister’s pain,
Of the self, forever before me.
Temptation by the now is everywhere,
But I cannot forget what I have seen.
Your shallowness is my nausea,
And I will be judged for judging,
But so be it.
For my heart tells me you are wrong
And this I cannot ignore.
Other things I might,

But this, I cannot.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 68sec / 534kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1994

Being driven and drawn forward
By the knowing
That we are struggling
For that which is timeless;
While those against us
Are fixating on that which has passed.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 72sec / 565kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1993

The invitation has always
Been there - the choice to rise beyond the clouds of fatalism
To turn, dive and soar through the structural imposition,
Like the pure hearted crow
Who never allows its own beauty
To be misaligned by the visual perception of blackness.

And like the crow,
We are all descendants
Of the forcibly transplanted.
Continuum of the Body Community
Broken - we have choice to maintain the isolation
Or reconnect - once again to form Church.

I have come close to stepping away forever
And this has scared me.
To follow the face of the spiritually punch drunk
Or the face of the clear hearted… Which will it be?
I must remember my whys, and be still
Until my hows, guide my heart - placing it in God’s Palm.

I long for the Strength
To ensure I pursue this;
Otherwise the evolution of my soul is jeopardised
And this, I know… can easily come to be.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 95sec / 745kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1993

It is there that the breeze is never harrowing,
That the sun’s warmth reaches the marrow
And powers the soul,
In ways known only in times of fables and legends.
Where the nobility fought gallantly without bloodshed.
Where honour knew respect and caring as the bottom line,
And dragons, were demons that we could detect
Not charaded away within the forms of humanity.

Through this corner of my Passion
I see what each really is
And adjust accordingly.
From here I am fed the Fire and the Water,
The Strength that does not end

And filling my connecting force,
My window of clarity and interaction
With the world,
Goes on
Always opening out to my soul and Beyond.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 77sec / 605kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1993

Its residence then, is not forever.
Each chip it makes, each take,
Though sometimes mortally wounding
May cease its cause through Truth.

We in turn, create the oracle of humanity;
The living dream outside of myth and speculation.
And when the fruit trees bloom
In multitudes across the planet,

We know that the struggle was not in vain;
And that all peoples can smile at their sun
And not risk persecution,
By those who smile at the sand.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 54sec / 425kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1992

We’re going backwards folks,
Just ever, such a little bit…

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 77sec / 605kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1992

All this
When one need only
Sun and Sky,
Earth and Wind,
Water
As a soothing friend.
All this,
And more in One:

Sadness, that can’t be felt;
Anger, that can’t be seen;
Happiness, that never frees;
Peace, that can not be…

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 55sec / 433kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1992

There was a young man.
Alone with no leaves,
But ever so many books — and one,
An isolated spine, which sat quite still
And read so blank in its non-being.
Within this he had a dream
And in it, Saint Nik - a guy with an affectionate fuzzy beard,
Handed him pen and ink
And rumbled, “Write what you will, when you will, as you will.”

There was a person,
Standing at ease below the grandeur of a Moreton Bay Fig,
Holding all Traditions with equal regard and respect;
Remembering the filling up of paper with mind,
While a little girl tugged at a trouser leg
And held out a thought plate
Saying, “I’m done.”
For her, the new young, there was no need to be told
Explore as you will.

For it had come to be - that one was born of freedom
Where chapters could always be written,
And bottling into kegs of fear was only a memory
In a passing youth’s imagination…

Dedication (For Mal McCouat)
Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 103sec / 808kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1992

Parents turn away,
Professing deafness
At
Such thoughts…

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 61sec / 480kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1991

Triggered by laughter and lemonade trophies,
The recline in observation is complete;
Diving in, one savours the flavour
Spontaneously scribed between souls.
Heads raised - we glimpse
Good wishes recorded in the chronicles of heaven.

Where scores are kept,
To moor our so’s…

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 49sec / 386kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1990

For there is a Meadow
And Daisy behind your facade;

To good to remain unknown,
And I will know it before my end.

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 23sec / 183kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1990

Audio Version (Podcast - MP3 / 49sec / 386kb)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1990

For below the sheath, it lives but still.
Awaiting times,
Which cannot kill.

So, will it rise to cleanse our souls?
Caress our worries?
Save our goals?

Futile to think, thoughts like these -
As resurrection lies,
Through hands and dreams.

Not in waiting or wanting spells,
Which facade the love
Yet ring the bells.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1989
(Poem From 1989 - exact date of writing unknown)

Such warmth… aahhh… drawn from the stills of Antarctic.
Such sweetness… oohhh… modeled on the taste of fermenting gall.
What could ‘top off’ such a script,
Rooted in a tangle of pain and unsatisfied expectations?
One thing I tell you… one thing… he said.
A silence, a withdrawal, an isolation ‘par excellence’.

And so it was…

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1989
(Poem From 1989 - exact date of writing unknown)

It is the pain, the gut wrenching feeling.
It is the laughter that needs no recognition.

It can be the most peaceful experience -
Like the breeze gently rocking the gum tree’s leaves.

Or - it can be ‘the noise’ which serves no true purpose,
But to tempt one’s hormones to tighten their grip.

It is the ‘once upon a time - lived happily ever after…’ story.
An illusion? Not totally - its reality lies in the extent we believe in it.

So where does it lead? Where does it end? No one knows.
The only certainty is that its resting place - is where one directs it to go.

And this, is not due to fate,
As some would have us believe.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1987
(3rd poem written in 1987)